


the anchor is in your hands now

by alphabetsoup03



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: House Party, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Idk what I'm doing half the time, M/M, Underage Drinking, but it gets the job done amirite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 03:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18175538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphabetsoup03/pseuds/alphabetsoup03
Summary: Changbin is in a bad place.There's no other way to put it. One thing leads to another, feelings pile up, and in the end, something bad is bound to come up.And that's where Changbin is now.





	the anchor is in your hands now

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't edit or read over y'all pls have mercy it's like 2 in the morning

  
Changbin was fucking wasted.

 

He didn't know what it took to gethim here, but it must've been a lot for someone that's fairly strong compared to the rest. Then again, this week hasn't exactly been his cup of tea.

 

First, it started with the rain. For days and days on end, the sky had been pouring it's heart out, leaving nothing left in the clouds. The grayness of the sky took over the atmosphere, sending a gloomy mood over the entire city. The streets were flooded, roads were closed, and the clouds took the spotlight, leaving the sun's rays in the dark—literally.

 

Days after the stormy weather, the doors were opened and in came the whirlwind of schoolwork and exams. If the rain meant anything, it was more than likely mourning the hell students would be put through the next week.

 

High school left no one behind, in a negative way. Hundreds of students are locked behind closed gates and sat in a cold room, given only a clock as a way of telling what the rest of the world was doing. And hours of cramped fingers, sleepless nights, and tear-soaked papers led from one thing to another; or, in this case, another sad story.

 

And thus, the gates of Hell were opened and out came the devil himself: heartbreak.

 

Changbin had always prided himself on his ability to not get too attached to anything. Sure, there was his past dog who had died a couple years before, and his now-deceased relatives. And his gaming console that he put a slice of toast in the disc slot and broke it. But those were things close to him. Those were things that shaped him as a person, that contributed _something_ to his miserable excuse for a human being.

 

And now, as he downs his feelings with alcohol, Changbin regrets everything. He regrets never playing with his dog enough, he regrets never spending time with his family enough, and goddamit—that piece of toast.

 

But most of all, Changbin regrets falling in love.

 

It was the summer before he was to start his high school years.

 

The scene is set: orange sky, white clouds, green grass. An illusion of life, the magic of childhood. They are young, and yet, where is the innocence? The loss of a young life rivals that of an angel itself, white wings scattering delicate feathers down into the abyss below its feet, sucked into the blackness of life itself.

 

And yet, life moves on. Babies are born into the new world, the past generations feeding the seeds of tomorrow to grow us into something spectacular—something breathtakingly beautiful. We are given our foundations made of memories and legacies, building our thrones atop the fallen bodies of our ancestors who muted their voices to give us the stage. We are handed the mic and told to sing; no lyrics, no practice, just talent and perseverance.

 

And those of us that can pull through the audition? We have our faces plastered on the billboards, the glowing screens, the walls, everything. We took our voice and we magnified it tenfold to tell the world we made it. We tell the world we made it, and you can, too.

 

Life moves on.

 

So why can't Changbin?

 

The culprit of his first love affair is gone, leaving his heart in shambles and his life in a state of confusion. He wants to forget everything and just go back in time, back to a simpler time in life here the worst thing he could think about was going to bed early.

 

And so he's here now, stuck at a loud party at a cramped house. His friends are in another room, he's in the kitchen with no intent of returning to them. The music is deafening, blasting his eardrums with inaudible words, heavy bass pounding his skull. The loud talking and laughing of the crowd is distracting, giving the impression that there is something to be happy about.

 

Changbin puts his cup down and grabs the side of the counter squeezing his eyes shut and trying to block out everything.

 

He tries to block out the music, the chattering, the pattering of the rain that he can't hear but he knows is there. Everything has to go.

 

Changbin opens his eyes and regrets it immediately. The world is spinning, a stunning array of colors dancing in his vision, colors that he knows aren't even there. The room seems tight and small now, the messy kitchen is cramped and the living room is shrinking. Is that even possible?

 

God, what even is possible anymore?

 

Changbin is sweating now—at least hethinks. Coldness spreads throughout his body, numbing chills that feel so _hot_.

 

His jacket is soaked now—is that alcohol or sweat?—and everything feels uncomfortable, as if this body wasn't even his.

 

His stomach is twisting in a bad feeling, a feeling he just can't explain. It isn't fear, or disgust, it's just... strange. Along with everything else.

 

Changbin grabs his cup again and shakily stands on his feet, trying to gather his wits. His hand is shaking uncontrollably, or is that the room? The cup is crinkling as the trembling forces his grip to tighten, the sound painfully loud.

 

He takes a cautious step forward, reaching out to steady a hand on the fridge. The voices don't seem to be getting louder. On the contrary, everything is getting quieter; as if underwater.

 

Muffled music and loud shoutingis giving off the illusion that Changbin isn't alone, and yet, why is he anyway? Dread and fear spreads across his body, the numb static still there. Where are his friends? Which room did he come out of?

 

Stumbling out of the kitchen, not particularly looking for anything, just trying to get somewhere.

 

The dull ache of his head has now escalated to a throbbing pain, the beating of drums shattering his skull.

 

He squints across the room, trying to get his bearings. Loud, squirming bodies squeezed close together, sweat and heat radiating off into the room; the sky is foggy and the moon is bright, what are we doing here?

 

Changbin clenches the countertop, fear keeping his feet from leaving the kitchen tile in favor of soft carpet. Somehow, the hardness keeps him alive for now, as if the plush fabric would suck him deep into the ground. The floor was already pulling at his toes, grabbing at the writhing pack of animals dancing across it's landscape.

 

Staring at the ground, Changbin blinks away tears of exhaustion, fear, and sadness.

 

He blames his friends for this. He has always hated being dragged to events like these, he always had a fear of crowds. Does no one ever listen to him?

 

He blames his ex. He hates the feeling of being abandoned, being cheated on; he feels worthless and shitty, like someone who could never be truly loved.

 

He blames himself. As much as he hates to admit it, Changbin hates himself. He hates the way he can never seem to talk to people, the way he can't make friends and hold steady relationship, the way he can't ever be happy and satisfied with what he has, the way—

 

"Hey man, you alright?"

 

Changbin blinks.

 

"You were gone for quite a bit, Chan told me to go look for you in case you got lost, or stuck in the crowd."

 

Felix brushes a strand of Changbin's hair away.

 

"You're sweating like crazy, need to take a step outside?" Felix looks concerned, frowning as he looks over Changbin.

 

"Yeah. Yeah." Changbin can only muster a whisper, but he can tell that Felix hears him. He lets his hand get grabbed and stumbles in the direction of the door, Felix leading the way.

 

The water filling his ears has passed, Changbin notices. The music is still unsufferingly loud, the crowd is like a pack of wild animals, screeching and bellowing, but for once in his life, Changbin welcomes the noise.

 

His stomach is still twisting and turning uncomfortably, as if he was going to throw up, but he knows that he can't.

 

Felix reaches the door and pulls it open, nudging Changbin outside first.

 

The cool air blasts Changbin's hot, sweaty face, the smell of smoke and rain filling his senses. The foggy sky is blocking the moon, who is weakly shining through the hazy mist, and Changbin breathes in deeply.

 

He falls to the curb and sits down on the wet concrete, stretching his legs out and exhaling.

 

"It was kinda cramped in there, huh?" Felix sits down next to Changbin, resting his hands atop his knees. "I gotta admit, it wasa lot more packed than usual. Woojin kept saying how apparently there was gonna be a fight tonight, so there was a lot of people hoping to see it."

 

Felix stretches his hands above his head, groaning. "Hyunjin was worried about you, ya know. I mean, I guess we all were, kinda."

 

Changbin glances up from the ground, raising an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

 

"I mean, since you aren't really a party kinda person. We've always invited you because we don't want you to feel left out or anything, but at the same time... I mean... At the same time you are an introverted person who can't socialize very well."

 

Changbin looks back at the ground, lost for words. He doesn't know how to reply to that, but he doesn't ignore it.

 

Felix wraps an arm around Changbin's shoulders, pulling the two closer on the curb. "There isn't anything wrong with that. You just aren't a talky person."

 

The air coming out of Changbin's mouth is white and foggy already, the coldness breaching through the layers of fabric covering his skin. He tries to distract himself by focusing on that, but he hears Felix all too clear.

 

His lips curve upwards into a small smile, and gathers his words after a few moments of silence.

 

"Thanks. That—that really means a lot to me."

 

Felix let's a smile grace his features, freckles glowing under the moonlit sky.

 

The music is loud and distracting, the pounding mess in his head fading to a dull throb.

 

The soft dripping of the rain off the roof and bushes sets an image of peacefulness.

 

The clicking of the crickets and the distant barking of a restless dog sing a song that prowls in the night like an unquiet spirit of music.

 

Maybe Changbin doesn't regret everything after all. After all, everything happens for a reason, right?

**Author's Note:**

> I've had writer's block for so long, but believe me, I have so many more wips I'm trying to work on rn
> 
> This is mainly a filler fic before I have the patience to write a chaptered one, gotta stick to oneshots before I escalate to something more
> 
> Comments and feedback are appreciated!!


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